Taking up our position in the angle of a partially demolished outbuilding, we waited. Nor were we kept long in suspense, for gliding stealthily along the road a cloaked figure loomed up in the darkness. 'Twas the man who had left for the rebel camp with some secret message from the treacherous captain. "Now!" exclaimed the colonel, and, dashing out upon the startled man, we bore him to the ground. In a few minutes he was bound and gagged, and left to await discovery in the doorway of one of the houses, while we were speeding back to the town with a written message to Captain Chaloner in our possession. At the Landport Gate Firestone led us into a well-lighted room, where we could examine the intercepted letter. Fortunately, it was not sealed, but merely secured by a silken cord. "Ah!" exclaimed the colonel. "'Tis as plain as daylight: '_Before the morning watch, I say; before the morning watch_.' Chaloner will receive his message, but let him take heed." So saying, he refolded the missive, giving it to a pikeman to deliver to Chaloner at the Governor's house. "Will he not want to know why his messenger has not delivered the letter in person?" I asked. "Where wine is in the wit is out," replied Firestone oracularly. "But now, to the postern! The hour is at hand!" Just before midnight we waited close to the postern for the faithless captain, and, before a quarter of an hour had passed, two cloaked figures, reeling with the effects of strong drink, staggered towards us. "Hist! 'Tis Goring and Chaloner," whispered Firestone, dragging us into a recess. Our companion had already given instructions to the guard, who, turning out smartly, saluted their worthless Governor, Goring. "Fare thee well, Chaloner," said the latter unsteadily and with mock sadness. "I feel that I'll not see thee to-morrow." It was a lengthy parting, but at length Goring returned towards his quarters, while Chaloner, hardly able to return the salute of the guard, staggered across the footbridge over the moat. Hardly had he gained the open ground when Firestone gave the signal, and we followed, treading softly lest the captain should hear us while still within hailing distance of the fortifications. It was a clear night, and we could distinctly see the lurching figure of our quarry against the sky-line. Away at Spithead the stern lanterns of the blockading ships glimmered like gigantic glow-worms, while away to the north flickered the watch-fires of the rebels' camp. When Chaloner had covered half the distance 'twixt the town and the castle, Colonel Firestone increased his pace, and overtook the drunkard. The captain showed no sign of alarm at our approach, merely stopping and looking at us in a half-dazed manner, then resuming his staggering gait. "Captain Chaloner, we bear you company to the castle to-night," announced Firestone sternly. "Delighted, I'm sure," replied he, turning and extending his hand, almost falling through the effort of standing still.